intramuralist ™

How many of us would walk away from a million dollars?

Better yet, how many would willingly walk away from thirteen million dollars?

Nothing illegal. Nothing more than being paid for the profession you love to do. That’s it. Walk away. Such is the status of Major League Baseball’s Adam LaRoche. There are two seemingly relevant reasons why the former professional recently walked away. First, as told by ABC News….

“Adam LaRoche said he decided to resign from the Chicago White Sox about 20 minutes after ‘a short, heated conversation’ in which he was told he could no longer bring his 14-year-old son to the team clubhouse, telling ABC News in an exclusive interview that he didn’t hold any grudges and wouldn’t rule out returning to baseball.

The first baseman had played 12 seasons for seven different teams and his son, Drake, has been with him practically all the time. Drake even had a locker right next to his dad’s in the White Sox’s clubhouse.

‘I haven’t lost an ounce of sleep,’ LaRoche said of his decision. ‘I mean, I have zero regrets.’

LaRoche, 36, acknowledged that exceptions had probably been made to allow Drake’s presence and that he knew it could come to an end at any time. Nevertheless, he said he was ‘mad at the time’ when Ken Williams, the team’s vice president, made the decision.
‘I don’t hold a grudge. I don’t hate anybody over there. You know, it just made my decision easy,” LaRoche, alongside his son, told ABC News’ T.J. Holmes, adding, ‘Honestly, it’s not the end of the world to me. And I thank my parents for that. The way I was raised. Because baseball — and I’ve said it before, I don’t want to be defined by this game. I know there’s a lot more to life’…

Being available for Drake during his formative years was essential, LaRoche said.
‘Our kids are going to follow in our footsteps, good or bad. And you know, we got a small window here, a very small window here, to turn them into the men that they’re going to be. And I don’t want to miss six months of that window, even for $13 million.’ ”

There is a second relevant reason. According to QPolitical.com…

“This was recently reported by ESPN’s Tim Keown, and it might give some insight into the real reason for Laroche’s retirement:

‘LaRoche, along with Brewers pitcher Blaine Boyer, spent 10 days in November in Southeast Asian brothels, wearing a hidden camera and doing undercover work to help rescue underage sex slaves. All of which raises a question: After 12 years in the big leagues, the endless days and nights in dugouts and clubhouses, how did LaRoche’s nearly cinematic level of nonconformity escape detection?

… Working through a nonprofit called the Exodus Road, LaRoche and Boyer conducted surveillance in brothels and tried to determine the age of the girls — known only by numbers pinned to bikinis — and identify their bosses.
‘Something huge happened there for us,’ Boyer says. ‘You can’t explain it. Can’t put your finger on it. If you make a wrong move, you’re getting tossed off a building. We were in deep, man, but that’s the way it needed to be done. Adam and I truly believe God brought us there and said, ‘This is what I have for you boys.’

That’s right, last fall LaRoche, along with fellow big-leaguer Blaine Boyer, went undercover in Southeast Asia to rescue underage sex slaves from local brothels. Let that sink in for a minute. A pair of white professional athletes went undercover in an effort to rescue children from sex slavery.”

While it was assumed that LaRoche retired because of reasons stemming from his son not being allowed in the clubhouse, that seems only the last straw, as he can now focus more on something bigger.

So what does it take to walk away from a million or thirteen million dollars?

It would seem — by Adam LaRoche’s example — something bigger than self.

Respectfully…
AR

I hate pickles. I know, I know… that’s not really an appropriate use of the word “hate.” But it’s true; I hate them.

As an adult who desires to be at least perceived as semi-mature most days, I confess to hiding the depth of my loathing. If the watching world knew that I’ve totally caved to hating something with a passion — that is based solely on my own perspective and experience — and has been steadfastly fueled by the other secret pickle haters out there in existence — I know I’d be subject to rampant disrespect.

And yet, my hate continues.

But wait; it gets worse…

Not only do I hate pickles, when I observe someone else ordering “extra” pickles or ordering those stinkin’ fried pickles as some sort of desired, tasty appetizer, I cringe inside. I have zero comprehension how someone I otherwise admire could adore something that I do not. I have no idea how their taste buds and logic could allow them to even entertain the idea of eating “extra.”

Geesh.

The reality is (confession time, friends) that sometimes — instead of only offering a thinly-veiled, judgmental stab at why abstaining from pickles is far better for the soul — I go one step further; my hatred alone is not enough. So instead of advocating for pickle abstinence, instead of simply stating why I feel the way I do, I go after the person who feels the way I don’t. In a calm quiet, logical argument, I tear apart the pickle eater. I demonize the opposition.

Recently on the Intramuralist, we’ve found a bit of strong commonality — a thread woven into the lives of many, regardless of the perspectives from which we individually hail. Collectively, the masses seems to agree that the “I’m-mad-as-hell-and-not-going-to-take-it-any-more” rant is not an attractive articulation. In fact, it is quite possible that it has the exact opposite effect than what’s desired; instead of spewing the opinion in a way that wins friends and influences people, it only influences people in a non-positive way.

Cognizant of my very true pickle example, I’d like to go that step farther today. I believe it’s significant.

There’s another kind of articulation that is equally unattractive. It may be absent the zealous rant of our “mad-as-hell” folks. The passion may also seem dampered and enthusiasm subdued. But make no mistake about it; judgment still often drives the argument.

As opposed to that list of things that are universally considered right and wrong (note: there are at least 10 of them, starting with having no other self-created gods), why is articulating our own opinion not enough?

Why do so many spend so much energy tearing into another instead?

Does our opinion not stand alone?

Will another poke holes in our argument, so much so that we cannot substantiate it via reason and compassion?

And why do we have trouble resisting judgmental stabs at another?

My sense is that too often we attempt to make ourselves look better, sound wiser, and be of increased influence by demonizing the perspective of others as opposed to engaging in healthy, interactive, respectful dialogue. An added few, semi-random points: no rant will ever qualify as dialogue; no unwillingness to listen will ever gain full respect; and demonizing of opposition rarely equates to wisdom.

This is a hard one, friends.

Off now for a snack. For the record, it may be me in front of you in line who respectfully requests that they withhold the briny green relish. But I’m working on not adding the word “hate” or “slimy” to my order. I’m also working on remembering that such is based solely on my own perspective and experience.

Respectfully…
AR

Call me a realist, but I find myself continually questioning the merits of social media. On one hand, it has allowed us to connect in a way we would otherwise not… Friends from grade school, high school, college, past jobs, towns, hometowns, etc. It has allowed me to converse at least sometimes with friends I would otherwise miss. It has allowed me to get to know people in ways I wonder if I would otherwise know… how we think, what we’re up to, and what is important to each of us.

I value knowing what is important to you. I am thankful for the insights into one another’s lives — knowing, no less, that what’s most important to each of us is different.

Thank God.

What concerns me about social media isn’t the inundation of semi-spectacular selfies. You know the ones… Here I am with my best friend’s neighbor’s mother’s dog, and we are having the most fabulous time!… Yes, I, too, love the “fabulous times.”

What concerns me about social media is the judgment of our differences.

There are too many “this is how I feel, damn it’s.” You know those, too. They typically fall along the lines of, “I’ve been ticked off enough, mad enough, unheard long enough, that I’m finally going to tell the rest of the wold how I feel!” (… or at least tell my Facebook friend group — which has an increased probability of being reduced after the “this is how I feel” moment. Just sayin’.)

(Notice, also, who the subject of the above sentences is.)

A tangent but related FYI… Every time I think I’ve waited long enough, been silent long enough, or I just have a strong sense that I shouldn’t have to be this patient any more, I think of the ancient Israelites roaming in the desert. I think of their less than ideal conditions. Shockingly, they had no iPhones, iPads, earbuds or iTunes to speak of. They barely had a clean change of clothes. There was also no Walmart, healthcare, or any local grocery or restaurant in existence. And yet, they wandered. Fo 40 years.

If I had to go even 4 days without my iPhone or iPad, I guarantee my grumbling would be near evident to all.

Back to my concern, of course… we are a judgmental people.

Every rant… every refusal to wait… every insistence that another hear me…

Why?

Who is the subject of my sentence?

Is it not me?

Have we somehow evolved to a point where we believe that the best way to win friends and influence people is to shout at them and not put up with their differing opinion any more? Have we somehow justified that loving others well means spewing our own opinion louder instead of listening and asking why another feels the way they do?

What if the next time you met a Donald Trump supporter (because yes, they probably live next door to you), you asked them why they feel that way — as opposed to simply mentally categorizing them as somehow advocating bigotry?

What if the next time you met a Bernie Sanders supporter, you invited them into a healthy dialogue — as opposed to immediately dismissing them as economically ignorant?

What if?

What if we approached social media differently?

… as opposed to, yes, falling prey to being so judgmental?

Such judgment rarely wins friends or influences people… at least in a good way.

Respectfully…

AR

Last weekend Hillary Clinton and NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio took part in a skit with Broadway actor, Leslie Odom Jr. Part of the brief exchange went as follows:

“Thanks for the endorsement, Bill. Took you long enough,” said Clinton.

“Sorry, Hillary. I was running on CP time,” de Blasio joked in response.

“That’s not – I don’t, I don’t like jokes like that, Bill,” said Odom, who is black.

Clinton then interjected the would be punchline, saying, “Cautious politician time. I’ve been there.”

Cautious politician time.

Note that “CP time” is also a reference to “colored people time,” a colloquial phrase stemming from the stereotype that black people are chronically late. Allow me to also add prior to any further processing that there exist three additional, significant factors in regard to this story… One, Clinton’s spouse, Bill, clashed with Black Lives Matters protestors in the days immediately preceding the event; two, the skit was scripted, not improv; and three, de Blasio’s wife actually is black.

Friends, Clinton and de Blasio were joking. Regardless of their intent, regardless of the awkwardness audio accounts affirm, the Mayor and presidential candidate have since faced increased scrutiny.

Such prompted this semi-humble current events observer to ask a few questions…

When is a joke funny?
When is it not?
When do we give the joke teller the benefit of the doubt?
When do we not?

Why do we give some people grace?
Why do we withhold it from others?
Why do we make an instant judgment about some joke tellers?
Why do we advise no rush to judgment about others?

How come we assume we know what some people’s motives are?
How come we aver there’s no way to know the motives of others?
How come we are forgiving of some?
How come we are merciless of others?

And my last question…

Why are we inconsistent in our assessment?

(Ok, so it’s more questions than a few.)

The bottom line is that Clinton and de Blasio were joking.

Even well intentioned jokes can be offensive, but my sense is we are somewhat inconsistent in what makes us laugh, what instead offends us, and how we react depending on who is telling the joke.

Wait… Allow me a brief P.S. today…

How do you make a tissue dance?

You put a little boogie in it.

(… ok, just joking, you know…)

Respectfully…
AR

Conflict is inevitable.

If you disagree, flip through Facebook, turn on the news, or ask anyone how they feel about a Clinton, Kardashian, or current, hot-button social issue. Geeeeesh.

We unfortunately live in a world full of conflict; it’s all around us… from all the partisan and social sites, where people generously proclaim how right they are and how wrong is another… where even the brightest among us forbiddingly call out others… It’s seemingly the current day manifestation of Dan Ackroyd and Jane Curtain’s iconic SNL “Point/Counterpoint” skit — just in a far less funny form.

Conflict is all around us.

Unfortunately, no less, we also often contribute to the discord. Sometimes we’re even responsible. Speaking solely for self — I must admit — sometimes I am part of the problem.

I have concluded that this yucky conflict stuff is thus unavoidable. As much as we may attempt to fast from social media and all the contemporary crud that fills the evening news flow, I don’t believe that conflict can be avoided. It isn’t always only witnessed on our computer screens; sometimes it hits closer to home; sometimes, in fact, it actually hits in our home.

I’ve been wrestling with now to navigate through conflict wisely — and how resolution can indeed occur.

Where do we start?

Part of the challenge is that we sometimes start by thinking, “maybe, if I just voice my opinion a little louder, the other person will finally understand”… as if we merely didn’t voice our opinion loud enough the first time.

(I’ve yet to meet a single person for whom that’s been effective.)

Still more of the challenge is that we sometimes start by thinking we can remedy the problem if we become firmer or sterner or lay down the heavy hand… “I’ll show him who’s boss. Does he not know who I am?!”…

(Again, not an effective conflict resolution tool.)

For years I’ve read the books of Carnegie and Covey, scouring the pages for the most efficacious remedy. Their words are wise…

“Seek first to understand — then to be understood.”

“Try to build bridges of understanding.”

“Could my opponents be right? Partly right? Is there truth or merit in their position or argument?”

“To solve our most difficult problems we must radically change our thinking.”

“Think Win-Win… look for the best outcome for all involved.”

I think each of those is excellent… understanding, forgiveness, empathy, respect…

But I also believe each begins from an initial position of brokenness — that humble, contagious, contrition… a contrition that’s born out of humility… a contrition that starts with self… a contrition that starts with “me.”

While it’s true that we don’t have to attend every argument we’re invited to, we cannot avoid conflict. We do, though, need to learn to respond more wisely — and thus, more effectively.

Respectfully…
AR

So my family and I just spent ten days on a trip South. We boated and played in the ocean, saw friends from home and friends who have so beautifully stood the test of time. I am most thankful. We enjoyed the water, sunshine, and all the treats that come from such an extended time away.

One of our favorite activities, renting a boat for a week, was taking the boat out, finding some small uninhabited island, carefully docking the boat, and then exploring the area together. Some of the animals and nature we saw were beautiful and intriguing. En route to one island one day, a trio of dolphins decided to playfully escort us along the way. There’s just something about being that close to those animals for that long that is special and sweet — again putting life in perspective.

Putting life in perspective, no less, ’tis time to go home. A week of leisure is a wonderful thing, but that week of rest, reflection, frolic, and fun prepares me for going home.

There are disciplines embraced at home that for lack of better ways to put it, make me good.

Now don’t let me sound as if I am any better than I am, nor that I can perform or work my way into any good or heavenly entrance. The bottom line is that there exist disciplines embedded into my daily routine that help me be healthy, happy, and hopefully, a positive contribution to the lives of those around me.

Years ago, I read a great book by author John Ortberg. He talked about developing disciplines “for ordinary people,” which sounded like an achievable accomplishment for this semi-humble, striving blogger. But what caught my attention was that such was only the sub-title. First he identified his set of disciplines as “The Life You’ve Always Wanted.”

(Let me be clear… if all it takes is buying some $15 book to get what I’ve always wanted, then that’s a price I’m willing to pay.)

Ortberg eliminates the potentially accompanying stress almost immediately, saying that as with the marathon runner, “the secret to winning the race lies not in trying harder, but in training consistently and training with spiritual disciplines.

The disciplines are neither taskmasters nor an end in themselves. Rather they are exercises that build strength and endurance for the road of growth.”

Who would not want such a road to growth?

Why else would everyone crave those stinkin’ 26.2 stickers on their bumper?

(Ok, ok, so the word “stinkin’” is only included because I’m jealous… and have come no where close to 26.2 yet…)

But it’s not a marathon. It’s not a singular race.

It’s not one race… succeed or fail.

The “life you’ve always wanted,” so-to-speak, as identified by Ortberg, is one paved with humor and humility. It’s encouraging and challenging all at the same time. It’s not always easy… but it is always worthwhile.

It allows us to live a deeper, more spiritual, connecting-with-others life, right where we are.

As Ortberg says, it’s “a life on the edge that fills an ordinary world with new meaning, hope, change, and joy.”

I’ll take that… new meaning, hope, change, and joy… I’ll take zealously pursuing what that actually is.

I’ll take the dolphins’ escort, too… all putting life into perspective.

Respectfully…
AR

So I’m getting a little tired of this seemingly expanding chicken/egg mentality.

You know the drill… Which came first? The chicken or the egg? It’s the causality dilemma connecting two processes, where the first process is understood to be partly responsible for the second.

In the proverbial pondering, no less, as to whether the fowl or its ovum was the first to exist, this question originally evoked in regard to how life began has been seemingly perverted to allow for an onslaught of lesser things…

Who first started the name calling?
Who first started the disrespect?
Who first lied?
Who first posted a flippant rant on Facebook?
Who first disregarded the opinion of another?
Who first infringed on the rights of someone else?
Who first failed to limit their spending?
Who first quit listening to the totality of their constituents?
Who first justified arrogance?
Who first believed that narcissism was an acceptable trait?

My point is that we often justify less than admirable behavior in ourselves or in others because someone else did it first — because some so-called “chicken” already existed.

My sense is that we would be a far wiser people group if we recognized that the answer to the question — which came first: the chicken or the egg — doesn’t matter. Whether or not the chicken or the egg was here first or even always existed does not change what’s right or wrong. Neither gives us license to behave in ways that are less than admirable…

There is no justification for lying…
No justification for disrespect…
No justification for withholding kindness…
No justification for disavowing empathy…
No justification for narcissism…

No justification.

Friends, this may be arguably the boldest statement the Intramuralist has ever put in print, but I believe it to be true: morality is not relative. What’s right or wrong and our code of ethics is not dependent on the people around us. “Everyone’s doing it” or “he did it first” is an insufficient justification that intelligent people get by with using way too often; it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t ethical and it is not wise. No one else is responsible for my bad behavior; “the first process” should not be “understood to be partly responsible for the second,” so-to-speak.

Still, for centuries people have continued to ponder the question: which came first? Aristotle concluded that both the bird and egg must have always existed. Plato concurred.

 And truthfully, as I imagine the animals peacefully paraded, one-by-one in front of Adam in the Garden of Eden — with Adam being given the unprecedented opportunity to name each amazing creature — I can’t see the great big God of the universe holding up some indiscriminate egg, saying, “So what’s this?” Hence, in my definite, limited reasoning, the chicken most certainly came first. 🙂

But the reality is that my opinion doesn’t matter. Whether the chicken came first doesn’t matter; in other words, such doesn’t have any affect on how we are called to behave now…

… as what is good and right and true does not depend on any who came or behaved poorly before.

Respectfully…
AR